retiredmartin

July 2026. Hope Town. Darlington.

A fifth night parked up in a campervan in the suburbs of Darlington in a year; Cockerton Parish Council are probably debating me now.

Cockerton, where W. Alderson & Son‘s baps had so enraptured me last summer.

All the best stuff was gone just after noon on a busy Saturday, so I had to make do with quiche, which will surely ruin my gourmand reputation with you.

But that was great, too, and lasted most of my journey along the glorious Cocker Beck* Valley, broken into six green spaces called Denes.

I must have visited Darlo a dozen times in this blog alone, and never heard of Cocker Beck, which has all the sights you expect in suburban England;

Football Dene, where you can kick a ball about and pretend to be Argentina, is home to the memorial to Arthur Wharton, the first back professional footballer*.

Round the corner from Arthur’s sporting achievements is a reminder of Darlington’s claim to fame.

I’m heading for a train (not the Locomotion) that will take me on a world famous 200 year old route originally developed to enable folk to sample banked Bass from the Sun in Stockton.

Darlington North Road Station is next to Hopetown, on the site of the old rail museum.

It’s an impressive (and free) modern museum, packed with immersive experiences, thought-provoking exhibitions, and old locomotives. So good, I nearly missed my own train to Newton Aycliffe.

And no-one wants to miss Newton Aycliffe.

*_{Why do we only seem to have becks in The North ?}

**_{And first sprinter to run a 10 second 100 metres, apparently}